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Shining on me. I'm the only person in the entire world. But when it's about him, it's an eclipse, and everyone is in the dark, without warmth.
I remember when he tried to leave me after the incident at the pool, when he told me the fate of my brothers, after he took revenge on Lee in some horrific way. He tried to leave me in the dark then too. It was only my own pathetic drama that held him grounded to me. He placed my pain over his need to escape into whatever stoic façade he depends on to survive the evil in his life. Even now—I gaze at the little creature—he ensures I have company, affection…
Aurora stands up, reading me as my eyes flick to linger on the empty staircase where his dark, sad presence still resides. "Follow him up," she says without hesitation.
I drag my longing focus away from the direction he walked and meet her beautiful brown eyes. "He bought me a cat, Aurora. A white cat. My mum would have said she symbolises purity and innocence. She's good luck."
Aurora looks at the kitten, not at all swooned by its presence as I am. "Let's hope she is."
I tuck the kitten under my neck, her pearly fur brushing along my throat and jaw while she wriggles around in my hands. "I can't go after him. He told me to stay."
"He doesn't know what he wants right now. Go up there and collect his clothes, shoes, everything he wore tonight. Put his clothes straight into the machine—"
I speak through a shake of my head, still picturing the blood all over his shirt, still seeing the violence in each slash of crimson. "I don't think he wants me to bother him."
She goes on as though I never spoke. "Join him in the shower. Remind him you're there. Let him be raw with you."
A sad scoff leaves me. "He won't let himself—"
"Fawn." She steps towards me, getting close enough that I need to arch my neck to stare up at her, a flawless beauty, and my completeopposite—olive skin and dark liquor-coloured eyes. A regal expression laced in wisdom far beyond her thirty-something years. She tucks a blonde hair behind my ear, saying, "Just let him know hecan be… when he's ready."
My heart seems to vibrate in my throat when her soft fingers skate along my cheek. I swallow around the sensation, whispering, "Is that whatyouwould do?"
She eyes me closely. "If I wereyou,yes. He's very considerate to take care ofyou." She glances at the ball of wriggling fluff. "Even when he can't do it himself."
He is.I snuggle into the fumbling thing at my neck. "Do you love Clay?" I ask, the words slipping out unexpectedly and breathy.
She smiles. "With everything I am. But not in the way that willeveraffect your relationship with him."
The idea of disobeying him stirs inside me, a hot medley of both thrill and fear and disrespect. Not because I'm concerned; he'd ever hurt me—I don't think—but disappointing him would be the worst feeling imaginable.
"Use your voice, little deer."
I want to be therightwoman for him. Like Luca said. I place my kitten on the floor. "What about her?"
"I'll have Que organise a playpen for her."
Que, Jasmine's dad and Clay's Houseman, lives here so he is always prepared for what might be requested.
Looking at the kitten one last time, I nod my understanding, because he's using the kitten to distract me, and no matter how much I love her, I love him endlessly more.
He can't pull an adorable fluffy wall over my eyes when he obviously needs me. So I wander up the stairs, leaving Aurora andThe Secret Garden,and my kitten behind for tomorrow.
In our room, I head straight for the bathroom where there is no noise, no indication of what I might find on the other side of the door.
As I push the door open, my pulse moves from a vibrating mass in my throat to a drum between my ears.
My breath hitches when I'm met with the most breathtaking blue eyes staring at me in the reflection of the mirror. Within the deep sky-coloured abyss, he can't hide the cracks in his pristine manner. Can't hide the crumbling of his control over his own emotions. Is that why he doesn't want me nearby?
I walk slowly towards him, the material of my little nude-coloured dress sliding over my thighs with each step. His gaze drinks me in with disapproval and anger and lust, and the caress of the soft cotton on my skin soon becomes a tangible promise screamed from the darkest depths of the mysterious man in front of me.
Clay's eyes stalk me as I slide up onto the counter, parting my legs to allow for his breadth and desperately trying to ignore the dangerous crack of energy between us. I part my lips to help breathe through his electrified aura.
Contrary to the staunch, hard wall of muscles in front of me, my hands shake as I find the buttons on his shirt and begin popping each one free.
Once open, I slide my hands over the solid rolling canvas of his abdominals and up over the thick hard plane of his chest. I continue over each shoulder, sliding the shirt from his arms and watching it disappear to the floor.
"You're so beautiful," I say to him, and he tries to hide his grimace, but I catch it like a butterfly. It was raw. I don't let it elude me. I saw it. I'm going to put it in my heart where I can protect it forever.
